Sherlock Creator and Co-star Strikes Back at Critics in the Most Holmesian Way

It’s fair to say that the Season 4 premiere of Sherlock was met with a good deal of criticism. The first modern-day adventure of Benedict Cumberbatch’s Holmes and Martin Freeman’s Watson in three years was hailed by some critics as disappointing and even cringe-worthy, with shocking plot twists that felt deeply out of character even to fans. Creators Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss—seasoned TV writers that they are—likely took most of the negative feedback in stride—but one critique did not sit well. Gatiss—who also plays the brilliant and insufferably snooty Mycroft Holmes—could not resist responding to a piece in The Guardian that accused Sherlock of morphing into a James Bond story. And he did it in typical Holmes fashion: by putting the full power of his brain on display.

In a poem (yes, a poem) complete with lilting meter and a rhyme scheme and everything, Gatiss addressed the critique that Cumberbatch’s Holmes has gotten a bit too action-heavy and weighed down with international spycraft. *The Guardian’*s Ralph Joneswrote the critique:

When Moffat, Gatiss or both decided that Mary Watson just had to be a
ninja assassin with a murky past, they took ill-advised liberties with
Conan Doyle’s stories in what one can only assume was an attempt to
make the programme even sexier. It failed. None of the scenes
involving Mary ring true. How can the viewer be expected to believe
that both John Watson’s best friend and his wife could be waist-deep
in such extraordinarily cool activities? The show began to feel
implausible, a fate from which it has never recovered.

Gatiss’s lyrical response (also printed in The Guardian), however, argues that the Sherlock’s action beats are there in the Arthur Conan Doyle text—if this “undiscerning critic” knew where to look. He writes:

Here is a critic who says with low blow / Sherlock’s no brain-box but
become double-O. / Says the Baker St boy is no man of action— /
whilst ignoring the stories that could have put him in traction.

The Solitary Cyclist sees boxing on show, / The Gloria Scott and The
Sign of the Fo’ / The Empty House too sees a mention, in time, of
Mathews, / who knocked out poor Sherlock’s canine.

As for arts martial, there’s surely a clue / in the misspelled wrestle
Doyle called baritsu. / In hurling Moriarty over the torrent / did
Sherlock find violence strange and abhorrent?

In shooting down pygmies and Hounds from hell / Did Sherlock on
Victorian niceties dwell? / When Gruner’s men got him was Holmes quite
compliant / Or did he give good account for The Illustrious Client?

There’s no need to invoke in yarns that still thrill, / Her Majesty’s
Secret Servant with licence to kill / From Rathbone through Brett to
Cumberbatch dandy / With his fists Mr Holmes has always been handy.

Well, O.K.: Gatiss is right. Especially when it comes to Holmes hurling Moriarty over the Reichenbach Falls. But Jones’s larger point about spycraft isn’t quite addressed here. It does seem awfully convenient that Holmes just happened to get drawn into a case (the titular Six Thatchers) that once again involved Mary Watson. Sure, Gatiss’s character, Mycroft, works for the government—but on the page, the Holmes character was never involved in international terrorism the way Cumberbatch’s well-coiffed version often is—not only by Mary, but also by the BBC’s versions of Moriarty and Irene Adler.

There is some hope that with Mary now dead, and the show returning, as Moffat puts it, “back to the two blokes” of Baker St., Sherlock could revisit his more humble roots. But is there time for that? Despite some protestations to the contrary, many fans suspect we’re rounding the corner on the final two episodes ever of Sherlock. And with a long-dead Moriarty somehow chasing Holmes and Watson across Europe in this season’s finale, it doesn’t seem like Holmes will be settling down with his violin and pipe anytime soon.